


Goodnight Mattie, Goodnight Meg

by sherlock221Bismymuse



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Black Mirror Episode: s03e04 San Junipero, F/F, Femslash February, Inspired by Black Mirror, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-10-26 09:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17743508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlock221Bismymuse/pseuds/sherlock221Bismymuse
Summary: Martha Hudson was not always an elderly landlady in central London.Mummy Holmes was once a young girl too.This is their story. A love story.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eloquated](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eloquated/gifts).



> Title inspired by the beloved childhood classic Goodnight Andrew, Goodnight Craig  
> Fic written for Femslash month and inspired by this image  
> https://eloquated.tumblr.com/post/182488050433/petratodd-nobody-called-her-martha-in-1965-she

Martha Hudson was still smiling as she kept her phone away.

  
Talking to Meg always made her feel 21 again.

  
As she slipped in and out of wakefulness and finally fell asleep, she was already dreaming of those days in Cambridge when she had been a runaway, trying to make a living waiting tables and doing some exotic dancing at gentlemen’s clubs. She had a knack for languages and had managed to learn French and Spanish with amusing ease and was currently also fluent in Russian, Greek and Arabic. She always figured it was one more benefit before she moved on to another boyfriend.

  
One day at the Dramatics Club, as she was finishing her performance, she had seen someone looking at her and had almost stumbled in her last twirl.

  
She had had her share of boyfriends, and in fact even more grown up ‘men’ friends, but no one’s first look had struck her the way this one had. That electric blue gaze, the enquiring tilt of the chin, the single eyebrow raised in mischief.

One swish of her long brown hair and Margaret Louise Holmes had captured her heart.

  
It was the swinging sixties on either side of the pond. They were the generation that was born just after the war and the sense of freedom permeated everything.  
When she went backstage to change, as quickly as she could, before that beautiful creature disappeared, and then almost ran out of the green room, still pulling up her tights, she ran straight into her.

  
Of course she had come backstage looking for her…!!

  
They had both tumbled down and then laughed till they cried.

  
Yeah…she though in her dream. That was the defining status of their time together.  
Laughed till they cried. Always.

  
They had gone out for drinks, Mattie calling in sick at the restaurant where she waited tables. They had got drunk, on alcohol, on youth, on the joy of finding someone who gave meaning to the word ‘chemistry’.

  
Mattie may not have been the mathematical genius that Margaret was (please call me Meg!) but she was brilliant in her own way. They had not noticed where the hours slipped away as they discussed all about life, the universe and everything else.

  
Later that night they had gone to Meg’s room, quietly giggling and whispering as they made their way through the dark corridor and then fumbled with each other, unsure of how this would work since it was each one’s first time with a woman. But an hour later as they slept together on Meg’s narrow lumpy mattress and listened to each other breathe, they knew that this would not be the last time.

  
Even in her dreams Martha smiled as memories of the next year swept past her mind’s eye.

  
Everything seemed bathed in a constant golden light, the way happy memories always do.

She worked hard, as did Meg. After all, Meg was the only woman in her advanced mathematics class and Martha would never allow her to be distracted from that.  
“You are not just doing this for yourself Meg! It’s a huge step for all womankind!”

  
They were both swept up in the ideology of the second wave feminism that hit the UK in 1963 and many a man was vanquished by their flashing eyes and sharp tongue.  
Yes, sisters were doing it for themselves-- said the posters and the flyers.

  
“And well, maybe not always in very sisterly ways either” Mattie would say with a saucy wink and Meg would dissolve into giggles.

  
“You are so beautiful” Meg would whisper in her ears at night, as she undressed her carefully and quietly. “I wish…..”

  
“I know love….I wish too…” Mattie would answer, her usually cheerful face becoming serious. “But you know what? Don’t worry about the future. We are here, right now, you and I and this gorgeous lumpy mattress” and on cue Meg would dissolve into giggles. “This is as close to heaven as we are going to get.”

  
And then Meg would kiss her breathless and they would discover new erogenous zones and wake up late the next day and rush around trying to get ready on time.  
.  
.  
There were many evenings when they couldn’t meet.

  
One day Mattie was waiting tables and went to a new customer to take his order.  
She could see him from behind, wearing a suit and an odd hat, like a deerstalker.  
She almost rolled her eyes.

_A hat indoors?! Oh well_ ….and as she went to the table and asked “What can I get for you today?” and the customer who had ‘his’ face buried in the menu card looked up and winked and said “You.”

  
Mattie had to stop herself from yelling and laughing!  
“Meg!!” she whispered looking everywhere to see if her manager was around. “What the hell!?! And what are you wearing?!!!”  
“Oh I borrowed these from Timothy. He had them along for a play. Our computer lab was closed because of some technical trouble so I thought I would surprise you!”  
“And this ridiculous moustache?!”  
“I pencilled it in with my eyeliner. Come, let’s run away for the day!”

Her wild crazy adorable Meg…

 

Martha woke up at 6 am with traces of the dream still clinging behind her eyelids.

She made a cup of tea and took it up to Sherlock.

  
She had wondered about him and John but now John was getting married.

  
Poor Sherlock. He looked upset although of course he would never confess to it.

  
She sighed.

  
She owed it to Meg, to at least make the effort to calm him down.

  
She knew he loved her like a mother….. but had no clue how close he was to the truth.


	2. Chapter 2

As she climbed up the stairs she heard the violin playing a gentle waltz.

Martha stopped, smiling with delight and opened the door. She saw that Sherlock wasn’t playing the violin but was waltzing around the room on his own, _bless his heart!_

His regal bearing, his fluid grace……. _so much like her Meg_. She stood there with a fond look on her face.

 

“Shut up Mrs. Hudson.” Sherlock said.

“I haven’t said a word!! “ Martha exclaimed.

Sherlock sighed dramatically. “You’re formulating a question. It’s physically painful watching you thinking.”

He stopped dancing. He threw down his pen and turned to her. “Why are you here?”

She smiled. _That same flashing temper. That same warm heart under all that pretense of not being bothered to care._

“I’m bringing you your morning tea. You’re not usually awake.”

Sherlock sat down in his chair. “You bring me tea in the morning?”

Martha poured the tea and shook her head at him. “Well, where d’you  _think_  it came from?!”

“I don’t know. I just thought it sort of  _happened_.”

“Huh. Your mother has a lot to answer for.” Martha said and took the cup and saucer over to him.

  
“Mm, I know. I have a list. Mycroft has a  _file.”_

 _Does he now_ Martha thought as she sat down in John’s chair.

.

.

“So – it’s the big day, then!” She asked, not sure what frame of mind Sherlock was in.

  
_“What_  big day?”

“The wedding! John and Mary getting married!”

“Two people who currently live together are about to attend church, have a party, go on a short holiday and then carry on living together. What’s big about that?”

  
“It changes people, marriage.” Martha said.

Flashbacks came to her of her own marriage and her beloved Meg’s marriage---that had made sure that nothing was left of the life they had known together.

“Mmm, no it doesn’t.” Sherlock said.

“Well, you wouldn’t understand ’cause you always live alone.”

  
Sherlock was lifting his teacup to his mouth but stopped and said “ Your husband was executed for double murder. You’re hardly an advert for companionship”

  
But Martha was no longer really talking to him but thinking aloud as she spoke. “Marriage changes you as a person, in ways that you can’t imagine.”

“As does lethal injection.” Sherlock said.

Marta wasn’t really listening.

“My… best friend…… Margaret – she was my chief bridesmaid. We were going to be best friends forever, we always said that; but I hardly saw her after that. She cried the whole day, saying, “Ooh, it’s the end of an era.”

  
Sherlock stood up and started saying something about biscuits and shops but Martha continued reminiscing.

“She was probably right, really. I remember she left early. I mean, who leaves a wedding early?” She shook her head. So sad.”

Sherlock shouted “Biscuits!!!”

Martha snapped out of her daze and tutted at him. _“_ I really am going to have a word with your mother. “

“You can if you like. She understands very little.”

.

.

As soon as she left she heard him start the waltz again.

She shook her head.

_The poor boy. He was so distressed he hadn’t even noticed her ‘best friend’s’ name….and his mother 'understands very little'??! Oh these 'geniuses'......_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dialogue taken from the amazing transcript by the fabulous Ariane De Vere  
> https://arianedevere.livejournal.com/65379.html


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adventures are fun but they extract their price

Martha pottered around the kitchen making her morning tea.

The wedding had gone off well last evening.

There was that Best man speech madness and the murder thing of course…but well……….at least it was done. It was over.

Sherlock did not need to wait for the other shoe to drop now.

Martha shook her head. _Children nowadays. Couldn’t figure out what they wanted and then didn’t know how to ask for it._

Then she sighed _. They had known what they wanted…..and then willingly sacrificed it for the greater good._

As she had expected, Sherlock had left the wedding early. She had followed him out, worried that it was a danger night but she had seen someone meet him in the car park and take him away.

Her eyes were not what they used to be but she had a strong suspicion that it was Mycroft. Of course it would be Mycroft. Always there for him. Constantly worrying about him.

Just the way she used to worry about Meg.

She poured herself a cup of tea and sat down to drink it. Sherlock hadn’t come home last night so she didn’t need to make the trip upstairs.

As she drank, her mind drifted back to Meg. _Must be old age finally coming to me_ she thought. She was not afraid of growing old or dying. She was just surprised that it continued to surprise her!!

Inside her head she was still 21. Always 21.

She and Meg. They had been so full of life and the golden bliss of a finding love and joy, that despite the 47 years that had passed, it still felt like yesterday.

That day when she saw Meg walk towards her, hands deep in her coat pockets, collar turned up, she knew instinctively that something was wrong.

“We have to talk.” Meg said. Her eyes bright and voice shaking…with excitement? Worry?

Mattie felt a growing sense of anxiety as Meg pulled her to their usual corner, away from the cold wind and prying eyes. She held her and kissed her, long enough that they finally emerged breathless and giggling. The anxiety settled a little as Mattie felt sure that this couldn’t be bad news.

But Meg’s face turned grave almost right away.

“You won’t believe this Mattie, but someone wants to recruit us. Well they came to me but I said I wouldn’t do it alone. I told them that we were…” suddenly she stopped and electric blue eyes looked at Mattie, hesitantly. “I told them that we were…”

“Together.” Mattie finished the sentence for her, grinning. “Yes baby we are! But who wants to recruit us and for what??”

Meg told her rapidly and in staccato sentences. MI6 needed undercover women, younger women, those with special expertise. “We will be two ‘Mata Haris’.” She giggled. “They wanted me for my mathematical skills of course but I told them you were the exotic dancer and the scheming one with the flair for languages! Much more likely to go deep undercover than I could ever manage. And they agreed!! They were rather excited that you knew Russian!”

Martha remembered the strange feeling she had in that moment, that bone deep feeling that their lives were never going to be the same again.

.

.

They had some intense interviews, taken separately and together. Many documents were signed, tests undertaken, grim corridors traversed and boring manuals read.

Finally it was done. They were both to work for MI6 but Mattie was selected for deep undercover work while Meg would stay in the decoding and encryption teams.

It was too late to turn back now and Mattie had soothed Meg when she got agitated and guilty that she had dragged them into this and now they were likely to be separated.   


“Hush baby, it’s going to be fine. We are going to do this for Queen and country. Who would have thought?! I always told you we couldn’t be ordinary if we tried!” And she had winked at Meg to make her feel better.

.

.

A few months later came the call they had both dreaded.

Mattie needed to get close to a newly recruited KGB defected spy and make sure he wasn’t a double agent. She needed to get close enough to be able to access his private rooms.

“Whatever it takes.” the handler had said and his meaning had been crystal clear to Mattie.

Fortunately it didn’t take too long for her to discover that he was indeed a double spy. Her ‘silly girl’ act meant that he never suspected she knew a word of Russian, let alone be reasonably fluent in the language.

His game was up within a few weeks.

.

.

As soon as she got back Meg had held on to her for dear life.

“Oh Mattie..” She had breathed in her ears. “I am so sorry you had to go through this. I …did he touch you?”

Mattie gave her a bright smile. “Meg, surely you know I can’t say anything about it to you? And it’s over! That’s all that matters.”

“Till the next one.” Meg said sadly.

“You know what?” Mattie told her. “I enjoyed it. The danger, the thrill, the fact that what I was doing was so important for our country! I don’t want you to worry about me. At all. Remember what I always say? We have today and we have to live in the moment! What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle age.” 

Meg gave her a lopsided smile.  


“So come now.” Mattie said brightly. “Let’s go and find our favourite lumpy mattress!” and many kisses and many hours later Meg was finally comforted and fell asleep.

Mattie looked at her, lying so peacefully in her arms and wondered how she would cope if she ever learnt the truth or they were separated. Oh she was a brilliant genius with numbers there was no doubt, and many may find her radical in terms of her relationship with another woman. But Mattie knew the truth-- She as just so straightforward and mathematical in her thinking that it would never occur to her to bend for any rules as silly as opposite sex only.

She smiled and held her tight and went to sleep in the irregular embrace of Mr. Lumpy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. If you haven’t seen The Bletchley Circle, drop everything and watch it this weekend! These are phenomenal British women who worked on codes during the war and then post war found themselves saddled with domesticity. One of them recognizes a pattern in serial killings and tries to get the police to take her seriously. Enough said. Trust me—you will love it !  
> This dialogue is inspired by it : “You couldn’t be ordinary if you tried!”  
> 2\. https://www.theguardian.com/books/2018/oct/17/skripal-files-mark-urban-review  
> 3\. https://www.independent.co.uk/news/spy-scandal-the-double-life-of-a-quiet-old-lady-1117939.html  
> 4\. “What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle age.” Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Choices are made. Some voluntary, some forced.

The next time Mattie needed to get up close and personal was to find out if a certain Mathematics professor was secretly relaying codes to the Russians. The Game took much longer and she needed to get in much deeper.

“We suspect he is trying to get his hands on the Bruce-Partington files. We need you to get access to his private rooms and if he does take them to memorize them and send us word. Be careful. He is ruthless and dangerous.”

By the time she was able to find the evidence that allowed MI6 to take away Prof. James Moriarty and have him incarcerated for life, it had been two months.

Meg had been scared for Mattie’s life, and now finally she could confess that she had been too. She breathed a sigh of relief that it was over.She wondered if this is how it would be every time and whether she could take Meg and just run away one day….

She missed a period that month and didn’t notice it in the breathless excitement of their lives. When she realized she had missed two, she went to visit the doctor.

He would not speak to her after the examination and sent her straight to the nurse who grimly handed her a small booklet about unwed mothers and the phone number of the closest Church facility that would help with the adoption.

She stared at the booklet like it was a bomb. Her head was reeling and she couldn’t breathe.  _What the hell was she supposed to do now??_

She had heard of places where girls went to have it ‘taken care of ‘ but many of those who went there never came back…..

When she met Meg later that evening, she told her it was just a stomach upset and she spent a month trying to figure out what she could do.

Alas, time and tide and pregnancy wait for no woman and by the time five months were up there was no way she could hide it from Meg or anyone any more.

The agency arranged for her to stay in Ireland, far away from their other contacts in England. Meg was distraught at what she had caused by her desire for them to join the Agency. Mattie spent long hours telling her it wasn’t her fault but nothing she said could comfort Meg.

"You didn’t force me Meg. It was my choice. And let’s face it ---me doing good for Queen and Country? That was never going to happen otherwise!”

Meg had decided to give the baby up and let the nuns in the Magdalene Asylum in Dublin find someone who would adopt him/her. She simply could not raise a child at this point.

One day when she was 8 months pregnant, Meg came to see her. She was pale but determined.

“I need to move to Normandy for a while and it’s a small place so I need to be able to blend in. I can’t go as a single woman so I need to marry. I am going to marry Timothy.” She couldn’t speak any more and started crying. Mattie just held her hand as she cried.

“I am sorry Mattie.”

“Meg, love, you knew we couldn’t have been together forever didn’t you? Not even if we weren’t agents. The world isn’t ready for us yet. Maybe you can learn to love Timothy. Be happy with him.”

Meg wiped her eyes and spoke. “And Mattie, I am going to take your middle name and you are going to take mine. No one can stop us from doing that can they? From henceforth I will be Margaret Lilly Holmes and you will be Martha Louise Sissons.”

Mattie was too overwhelmed to speak. She just held her hand tight. _This would be enough for now. It would have to be enough for now._

But Meg had more to say. “Mattie……also…. I am going to take your child with me and raise him or her.”

“Oh Meg…..No!! Why would you do that?? You should start your new life afresh. Have your own baby. A proper one. With your husband. Not like this…not this……….”

“Mattie, my mind is made up. Will you let me raise your child? Will you trust me?”

 

 

Choose 1. She gives the child to Meg to raise. Go to Chapter 5

  1. She gives the child to an orphanage. Ideally the options should be 6a and 6b but since that numbering isn't possible -- Go to Chapter 6, and then 7



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. https://explorethearchive.com/6-incredible-female-spies-of-world-war-ii  
> 2\. https://www.irishtimes.com/news/social-affairs/religion-and-beliefs/magdalene-laundries-i-often-wondered-why-were-they-so-cruel-1.3521600  
> 3\. https://www.irishcentral.com/news/2000-irish-children-were-illegally-adopted-in-us-from-magdalene-laundries-189789961-237563011


	5. Chapter 5

Meg picked up the baby, a boy, who had very dark hair with a reddish tinge, grey eyes and a very unusual expression.

If it wasn’t a newborn baby she would have thought he was deducing her. After all, his parents were a brilliant (if diabolical) mathematician and a brilliant and brave linguist spy.

She laughed at her own fancy.

Martha had not been allowed to see the baby after it was born. The nuns had a rule that it was better this way. Martha hadn’t wanted to see him anyway. She didn’t want Meg to take him away either but Meg managed to persuade her saying it will help her blend in even more in her new undercover job.

She also reminded Martha of the nature nurture debate they used to have.

“We don’t have safe abortions in the country Mattie and I am sorry you were forced to carry this pregnancy. But maybe now I can give this child a chance? I have heard horrible things about what they do with babies at the Asylum. Please Mattie?”

So Mattie had relented.

.

.

Soon afterwards Margaret Lilly Holmes married Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch.

His name was too conspicuous for them to retain so he took her name and they became Mr. and Mrs. Holmes. Ever since Prince Philip had taken the Windsor name, it was not seen as something so unusual anymore.

Their plans had changed and they were now being relocated to Scotland. Since the launch of the Sputnik by Russia, it was believed that there was a genuine threat to London and an alternate government site was being prepared in St. Andrews.

 

.

.

As Meg settled in, she made sure to send Martha regular letters.

_We had planned on Mary if it had been a girl but now we have decided to name our son Mycroft. His full name is Mycroft Lazarus Holmes._

_M.L. Holmes._

_._

_He is such a bright boy and you will be so proud of him someday._

_._

_Now that the Pill is available I am hoping to not have another baby for at least seven years._

_._

_The Work keeps me busy and I am also writing a book on the Dynamics of Combustion._

_._

_I hope you are keeping well._

_._

_I miss you Mattie.  More than words can say. Take care of yourself. Please._

_Love,_

_Meg_

 

*****************

Martha read all the letters with mixed feelings. She was back in the Game and now the agency wanted her to actually marry someone and go abroad with him. They suspected that he had a drug cartel that was funding arms dealers and human trafficking rings and they needed a person on the inside.

Deep inside.

Nothing mattered to her anymore. Her Meg had gone. Her baby had gone. All she had was the Game!

So Martha Louise Sissons married Frank Hudson.

She was surprised when Margaret attended the wedding……..but she didn’t stay. She cried through the entire ceremony and then she left the wedding early. Martha saw her leave but didn’t stop her.

_What was left to stay for?_

_._

_._

They continued to write the occasional letter to each other.

Mycroft was turning out to be a true genius.

Meg had an unplanned pregnancy three years later but abortion had been legalized in the UK by then and she decided not to continue it. Work was too demanding and Mycroft needed all her attention to make sure he realized his full potential.

Another four years passed and Mycroft now had a baby brother. Sherlock Scott Holmes.

Martha never had any other children. And she continued to be grateful for that. Frank Hudson was not exactly good father material. All kinds of illegal activities and the women. All those women.

But like the Coventry conundrum, the agency never touched him and asked her to stay on because she was able to provide them with a wealth of information. Frank was not a big player himself but he had all the big connections. With her help the agency picked off drug cartels, human trafficking rings, prostitution rackets, counterfeit currency scams……..

Frank had a finger in every pie. And yet somehow he remained un-scathed. He often joked to Martha that she was his lucky charm.

She would smile at him and think to herself _You don’t know half of it you bastard._

_._

_._

The years passed and on the other side of the pond, Mycroft joined the Secret Services as an agent and Meg couldn’t be more proud! Eventually he joined the British Government and Martha gave up thanks to Meg every single day for having taking him in and changed his life.

_Who knows how he would have turned out otherwise??_

Sherlock seemed to be a troubled soul but had eventually found his calling in detective work. Meg always wrote to her praising how devoted Mycroft was to Sherlock and how he spent almost every waking hour looking out for him.

Sherlock seemed to have found his true vocation and when, twenty five years into her marriage, Frank Hudson finally and inevitably turned to murder, Meg had asked Sherlock to go to Florida to help Martha.

“Make sure Frank doesn’t escape the hanging.” were her clear instructions.

Sherlock did as was told and soon a newly single and happy Mrs. Martha Hudson returned to London. She was now a very rich woman. She gave away much of her wealth to drug rehab centres and to orphanages, pro-choice organizations and student scholarships. She still had a tidy sum leftover. Now she found herself in central London, the proud owner of a building on Baker Street with all the money she inherited.

.

.

So when Mycroft turned up one day, formally and politely, asking if she had a flat to rent to Sherlock, of course she did. At a very reasonable rate indeed.

“Please Mrs Hudson, don’t put yourself in a loss because you are Mummy’s friend.”

 _No son, don’t worry._ Martha thought to herself. _There is nothing I could do for Meg which would be a loss. Look at what she did for you…for me…._

“I am not renting these out for an income, young man.” she said. “So don’t worry! I could do with the company.”

Mycroft hesitated. “I am afraid my brother may not be the best of tenants Mrs. Hudson. He plays the violin loudly at all hours, sometimes he doesn’t talk for days on end. And I am sure Mummy has told you about his trouble with drugs.”

“Don’t worry.” Martha said with a smile. “He isn’t my first junkie you know. We will be fine Mr. Holmes!”

“Please call me Mycroft! I am young enough to be your son ma’am!” Mycroft said. The he shook his head. “I worry about him Mrs. Hudson. Constantly.”

“Then let him come and stay here with me. He will be like a son to me Mycroft. Not a tenant. Don’t worry about it at all!”

.

.

And so the years passed.

Her walls took a few bullets. She got used to finding the occasional toes and tongues in the vegetable crisper shelf in the upstairs fridge. She even started enjoying the late night violin because her Margaret’s boy was just so talented and played like a dream!

Then there was the time the CIA agents dragged her up the stairs for that blessed phone of his. But he was under her protection and she would rather die than give him up. The silly helpless woman act had fooled the agents and they had not imagined that she would hide the mobile inside her blouse.

But good heavens! The way Sherlock had taken them to task for hurting her?! She knew it felt wrong to be so thrilled. But he had dropped the CIA agent out of the window. Repeatedly!

That poor grey haired Detective Inspector, such a kind and lovely man, had been so distressed when he had turned up.

“Fell out of the window Sherlock?? Eight times??!”

Martha shook her head at the memory, unable to fully suppress her glee.

.

.

After John’s wedding Sherlock stayed away from Baker Street for four days.

He must have been with Mycroft, she thought. She had seen him pick Sherlock up from the car park that night. He must have known that it was a danger night.

She had always seen them snapping at each other and although she knew exactly how much Mycroft cared for Sherlock she had never let Sherlock feel she was not on his side against his big brother.

But sometimes she did wonder…………

That day when Mycroft had come to see Sherlock after he returned from…..…well….from being away for two years. There was something about the way they were looking at each other. There was an odd atmosphere in the room and she had felt like a third wheel.

She had heard Sherlock asking Mycroft if he had ‘found another goldfish.’

Then they had played operation and when she went in with tea for them, she had heard Sherlock tease him about a broken heart.

She had not been able to stop herself from saying “Oh underneath all that, he is pleased to see you.”

“Which one of us Mrs. Hudson?” Mycroft had asked sourly.

“Both of you dear!” She had said in a moment of sharp insight.

Later as she sat drinking her herbal soothers, she had wondered.

_Would Mycroft be better off knowing that this man he clearly loved so much was not really his brother by blood? That other things were possible between them?_

_Maybe she really should speak to Margaret._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. In the event of the Cold War turning hot, it was thought that London would not survive a nuclear blast. The solution was to disperse different parts of government and the military to different areas of the country. St Andrews was one such place.  
> Designated a Regional Seat of Government, a massive bunker was built to accommodate a government, the military as well as the BBC.
> 
> 2\. And yes, Martha Hudson ships Mylock :P
> 
>  
> 
>  


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The baby is a girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long gap ! Too much going on IRL :) Thank you for sticking with the story and hope you enjoy the plot twists!

**The baby is a girl**

Mattie was absolutely determined not to burden Meg with this child of hers. Born not only out of wedlock but fathered by that utterly evil man. Meg was convinced about the role of nurture over nature but Mattie had also read scientific journals about DNA and its role in genetic inheritance.

_Who knew if the capacity for evil could be inherited through DNA? Who knew if her own DNA was enough the balance or block out his evil?_

She would never want to foist a child like that on her beloved Meg.

_What if he or she set fire to their house one day and killed them all? How would she ever live with such a burden?_

No, this time she was not going to give in to Meg.

So she made sure that the agency kept Meg away and when the girl was born, the nuns took her away at once, as was their policy. They did tell her that she was beautiful and that they had decided to name her Mary, after the Holy Mother of course.

Mattie had left the Asylum two days later and a furious Meg had refused to talk to her for many months.

Mattie was back in the Game and now the agency wanted her to actually marry someone and go abroad with him. They suspected that he had a drug cartel that was funding arms dealers and human trafficking rings and they needed a person on the inside.

Deep inside.

Nothing mattered to her anymore. Her Meg had gone. Her baby had gone. All she had was the Game!

So Martha Louise Sissons married Frank Hudson.

She was surprised when Margaret attended the wedding……..but she didn’t stay. She left the wedding early. Martha saw her leave but didn’t stop her.

_What was left to stay for?_

_._

_._

They continued to write the occasional letter to each other.

Meg had an unplanned pregnancy. She did not want to continue because the work on her book was taking up so much time! But she didn’t have a safe choice so she carried on and had her son. She had named him Mycroft.

Seven years later she had another son. Sherlock.

Martha never had any other children. And she continued to be grateful for that. Frank Hudson was not exactly good father material. With her help the agency picked off drug cartels, human trafficking rings, prostitution rackets, counterfeit currency scams..

_._

_._

The years passed and on the other side of the pond, Mycroft joined the Secret Services as an agent and Meg couldn’t be more proud!

Mattie wondered once in a while if her daughter may have also become such a pillar of society if she had been raised by Meg?

_Well……..there was no way to find out now. She just had to live with her decisions……and so did Mary._

Sherlock seemed to be a troubled soul but had eventually found his calling in detective work. Twenty five years into her marriage, when Frank Hudson finally and inevitably turned to murder, Meg had asked Sherlock to go to Florida to help Martha.

“Make sure Frank doesn’t escape the hanging.” were her clear instructions.

Sherlock did as was told and soon a newly single and happy Mrs. Martha Hudson returned to London. She was now a very rich woman. She gave away much of her wealth to drug rehab centres and to orphanages, pro-choice organizations and student scholarships. She still had a tidy sum leftover.

She found herself in central London, the proud owner of a building on Baker Street with all the money she inherited.

.

.

So when Mycroft turned up one day, hesitantly, asking if she had a flat to rent to Sherlock, of course she did. At a very reasonable rate indeed.

“Please Mrs Hudson, don’t put yourself in a loss because you are Mummy’s friend.”

“I am not renting these out for an income, young man.” she said. “So don’t worry! I could do with the company.”

Mycroft hesitated. “I am afraid my brother may not be the best of tenants Mrs. Hudson. He plays the violin loudly at all hours, sometimes he doesn’t talk for days on end. And I am sure Mummy has told you about his trouble with drugs.”

“Don’t worry Mr. Holmes.” Martha said with a smile. “He isn’t my first junkie you know. We will be fine.”

“Please call me Mycroft! I am young enough to be your son ma’am!” Mycroft said. The he shook his head. “I worry about him Mrs. Hudson. Constantly.”

“Then let him come and stay here with me. He will be like a son to me Mycroft. Not a tenant. Don’t worry about it at all!”

“It is a great relief to me Mrs. Hudson. Can I ask you for one more small favour?”

And then he had given her an encrypted satellite phone and showed her how to use it.

“You will be Codename High Tea.” He had told her in all seriousness. She had shaken her head fondly. How like her Meg he was –with his fondness for the Game, and code words and these fancy devices.

“You can reach me anywhere in the world anytime you need to. I will alert you to the possible danger nights.”

“You really love him don’t you?” Martha had asked him.

“Yes.” He had replied and added. “Also his loss would break Mummy’s heart.”

“Oh I am sure she loves you the same too!”

Mycroft had given her a sad smile. “Parents always have a favourite child Mrs. Hudson and I can assure you that for Mummy it is not me.”

After he left, Martha was restless all night. _If someone like Mycroft felt unloved, what hope would her child have had after being left with the nuns? She had had no choice. Not really. But she hoped that the girl had found someone who loved her._

.

.

And so the years passed.

The upstairs walls took a few bullets. She got used to finding the occasional toes and tongues in the vegetable crisper shelf. She even started enjoying the late night violin because her Margaret’s boy was just so talented and played like a dream!

Then there was the time the CIA agents dragged her up the stairs for that blessed phone of his. But he was under protection and she would rather die than give him up. The silly helpless woman act had fooled them too and they had not imagined that she would hide the mobile inside her blouse.

But good heavens! The way Sherlock had taken them to task?! She knew it felt wrong to be so thrilled. But he had dropped the CIA agent out of the window. Repeatedly!

That poor grey haired Detective Inspector, such a kind and lovely man, had been so distressed when he had turned up.

“Fell out of the window Sherlock?? Eight times??!”

Martha shook her head at the memory, unable to fully supress her glee and pride at this ferocious display of possessiveness.

_Meg’s son !_

And then that familiar hitch in her heart. _Could have been hers too…._

 _Well_ , she always consoled herself. _At least she had him under her roof now._

.

.

She had found out later that the agent was Mycroft’s man and although he had apologized to her profusely for the injuries she had suffered she had been extremely angry with him.

“You know that I agreed to keep an eye on Sherlock for the sake of his safety! If you are the one who is going to go against him, just take your encrypted phone and get out of my sight, you reptile!” She had spat out.

Mycroft had placated her, given her a few details of the difficulties with the case and returned the phone to her with a request to please keep him informed as usual. He told her, rather ominously, that he thought Sherlock may be in grave danger.

“From whom?” Martha had asked, promptly worried and all her anger forgotten.

“I am afraid that is all I can tell you now.” Mycroft had said regretfully. “Mrs. Hudson, do look after him. Please.”

.

.

Then one day there were screaming headlines in every paper of an attack on the Tower of London, Bank of England and the Pentonville prison.

Martha had missed the news because she had been away at her sister’s for a week, but the day after she came back she heard someone enter the building. She opened her door just a crack to check and found herself staring at the face of her past. She almost screamed in terror. She had not thought of that face in decades. That half crazed manic gleam in the dark eye, that way of rotating his neck with a crack……Moriarty??!!

She had closed the door and stood there shivering in terror. _He was going to Sherlock’s flat?!_

With trembling hands and weak knees she ran to her bedroom, found the phone and messaged Mycroft.

By the time she had finished and gone back to the door, she heard him come down the stairs and leave the building.

She had rushed up to see if Sherlock was ok. He was sitting there, drinking tea, like nothing untoward had happened. She didn’t know what to ask him and he didn’t offer any information.

Then Sherlock had jumped off the roof of St. Bart’s. It made no sense to her!! She had messaged Mycroft on his phone many times but received no reply. She had no idea what to say to Meg so although she picked up the phone several times to contact her, she would stare het her name and number and then out the phone down.

  
What could she possibly say to her? What would she say to anyone who came to console her? After all Sherlock had been like a son to her.

After getting no reply back from Mycroft to her fifth message, she had taken a hammer and smashed the phone to smithereens. The next morning his assistant had magically turned and replaced it and take the broken pieces with her.

“Mr. Holmes is sorry for his silence. He would like to remind you that you are still under his protection.”

“His protection?!” Marth had laughed. “He couldn’t protect Sherlock!”

Somehow to years had passed and one day, by some utterly ridiculous and magnificent miracle her boy had returned from the dead!

When she had found out that Mycroft had had a hand in it, it had been the final straw for her.

She did not break the phone this time, to avoid getting a replacement, but the next time Mr. Chatterjee was going back to Bangladesh she would persuade him to take it along for his son who lived there and ran an electronics shop. He could dismantle it and sell the parts for all she cared.

.

.

One day, a beautiful bright woman in a red coat turned up and took Sherlock away saying something about a skip code.

For a second Martha was thunderstruck. _Mary?_ It could have been her daughter……..but Mary truly was such a common name.

Mary was a frequent visitor to 221B, especially during the wedding preparations. ON some days she even came alone, without John Watson.

Martha was partly happy that Sherlock got along so well with her, partly suspicious.

_Why did she come here so often without John?_

One day Martha was taking up some tea and cake for the two of them when she paused for breath just outside the door. She wasn’t getting any younger, she thought as she steadied herself.

“Your side of the church is empty Mary.” Sherlock was saying.

“An orphan’s lot Sherlock. Abandoned by the woman who gave birth to me.” Mary said, with a smile in her voice. “She left me behind at the Magdalene Asylum. I was raised by the nuns...... and eventually I ran away and ….”She stopped suddenly as though realizing that she had already said too much.

“You became an assassin for hire.” Sherlock said softly. “Yes, I deduced it a while ago. But don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

“Why?” Mary asked, incredulously.

“Because….I like you.” Sherlock said.

There was an odd kind of silence and then she heard Mary ask hesitantly. “John?”

“Ah Mary. He sees but he does not observe!”

That odd silence seeped out of the flat once more.

.

.

Martha took a deep breath and said “Hoo Hoo! “ and went in with the tray.

She poured them their tea and offered cake which Sherlock ate and Mary praised. She made small talk and Mary replied politely and cheerfully.

 _Assassin or not, what a lovely girl she was!_ Martha thought to herself.

As she was leaving she heard Mary say.” You are lucky Sherlock. You have not one but two mothers. I wonder who else I could have become if I had been raised by my own mother.”

As hot tears spilled down her cheeks, Martha figured she must be getting old and sentimental now. There was no way of knowing that this was her child. Mary was a common name and literally thousands of babies had been born each year at the Magdalene Asylum.

_Still…..was it possible that her daughter had become a trained assassin??_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marylock if you squint :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The baby is a boy

Mattie was absolutely determined not to burden Meg with this child of hers. Born not only out of wedlock but fathered by that utterly evil man.

So she made sure that her due date was not informed to anyone and when the boy was born, the nuns took him away at once, as was their policy.

Mattie sees a glimpse as they take him away. A boy, with very dark hair with a reddish tinge, dark eyes and a very unusual expression. She was probably imagining things but he looked as diabolical as his father. She laughed at her own fancy. 

.

.

She did not find out till much later that the nuns had given him away to a woman who claimed to be the boy’s aunt. She had no idea how the news of the father’s name had leaked, but given that they were in Ireland, and it was a small community, secrets were probably difficult to keep anyway.

She was glad he was going to be raised by family.

.

.

Two months later, she finally gets a letter from Meg.

_I am still very angry with you Mattie but I don’t want this silence between us anymore._

_Please forgive me for not having visited you. ~~I wish~~  _

_I am pregnant._

_Timothy is looking forward to it more than I am._

_He wants to call the baby Mycroft if it is a boy and Eurus if it is a girl._

_._

_._

Martha read the entire letter and folded it and kept it back in the envelope. She could sense that Meg wanted to ask about the baby she had given up……but what could she tell her? She wanted to forget about this entire episode. She wanted to move on.  

_._

_._

The years passed. Martha was back in the Game. One day she married Frank Hudson.

She was surprised when Margaret attended the wedding……..but she didn’t stay. She left the wedding early. Martha saw her leave but didn’t stop her.

_What was left to stay for?_

Her beautiful Meg….she had been pregnant again. Another boy. Sherlock.

He had found his calling in detective work and when Frank Hudson was convicted of double murder, Meg had asked Sherlock to go to Florida to help Martha.

“Make sure Frank doesn’t escape the hanging.” were her clear instructions.

Sherlock did as was told and soon a newly single and happy Mrs. Martha Hudson returned to London. She was now a very rich woman and the proud owner of a building on Baker Street.

.

.

She sent a letter to Margaret of course, thanking her and telling her how proud she should be of Sherlock, who had conducted the defence with razor sharp brilliance.

Oh Meg, he is such a chip off the block!! 

If there is anything I can ever do for him, please do not hesitate.

Her pen hovered over the paper as she contemplated her next words.

_Should she? Shouldn’t she?_

She decided that life was too short to not say some things.

He is like my own son Meg. Always remember that.

Wishing you every possible happiness,

Yours,

Mattie.

.

.

Then one day a young man had turned up at her door, hesitantly, asking if she had a flat to rent.

She wasn’t so sure but when he introduced himself as Mycroft Holmes, of course she did. At a very reasonable rate indeed.

“Please Mrs Hudson, don’t put yourself in a loss because you are Mummy’s friend.”

“I am not renting these out for an income, young man.” she said. “So don’t worry! I could do with the company.”

Mycroft hesitated. “It isn’t for me but for my younger brother. And I am afraid he may not be the best of tenants Ma’am. He plays the violin loudly at all hours, sometimes he doesn’t talk for days on end. And Mummy does not know but he has had troubles……with drugs.”

“Don’t worry Mr. Holmes.” Martha said with a smile. “This isn’t my first rodeo. We will be fine.”

“Please call me Mycroft! I am young enough to be your son ma’am!” Mycroft said. The he shook his head. “I worry about him Mrs. Hudson. Constantly.”

“Then let him come and stay here with me. He will be like a son to me Mycroft. Not a tenant. Don’t worry about it at all!”

.

.

And so the years passed.

The upstairs walls took a few bullets. She got used to finding the occasional toes and tongues in the vegetable crisper shelf. She even started enjoying the late night violin because her Margaret’s boy was just so talented and played like a dream!

Dr Watson turned up one day and somehow settled into Sherlock’s life the way no one had so far. Mycroft’s visits to Baker Street became less frequent and she found herself surprised to realize that she actually missed him!

She had gotten used to their little chats. Mycroft was brilliant but also polite, thoughtful and well read. He had some small mannerisms that reminded her so much of her Meg. The tilt to his chin when he considered an idea he wasn’t entirely in agreement with. The way he placed his palms together when he was thinking. The very specific way he liked his tea.

She promised herself that she would contact Meg and plan a visit. It had been too long……..but she was worried. So worried that it prevented her from making actual plans. She had not even heard her voice for over two decades at this point.

_What would they talk about?? Recipes? Knitting? What if Meg found her dull and boring and wondered why she had felt anything for her all those years ago?_

And what if they did end up meeting each other? What if Meg hated the way she had aged…….what if…..

_What if….. they still felt the same spark and would have to stay apart again ?!!_

No. It was better and safer this way. She had Meg’s younger son under her roof and the older one visiting. It was in some way so much more than she could have ever expected to be a part of her life.

And then on some quiet evenings when she was tired of knitting and the pain in the hips meant she needed her herbal soother, just before she dozed off she would allow herself to think briefly of her own son.

The one she had given up. Like Moses. She wondered where he was now.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft has been dancing around the edge of a puzzle for a while....and finally the pieces fall into place.

Mycroft was sitting at his desk, his head spinning.

He had been tested and documented for his blood group and other markers the week he had joined the Secret Service. Years ago. Of course he had had Sherlock’s blood grouped and cross matched during one of his once- upon- a- time very frequent hospital visits. But he had never needed to get any genetic testing done.

But ever since Jim Moriarty had exploded on the scene, the old rumour mills had started.

Eventually the gossip had reached his ears and when he heard the rumours of a female spy who got pregnant with Moriarty and married in a hurry, his thoughts leaped in the most obvious direction.  
He knew his mother had worked as an agent. He also knew that she had married in a hurry.

_Had Mummy had an affair…..with Moriarty?!!_

_Oh good heavens and all the blazing fires of Hell……….Was he Moriarty’s son?? Or was it Sherlock??_

It had become critical that he get Sherlock’s genetic testing done.

_Did Jim already know somehow?? Is that why he was after Sherlock?_

Mycroft stared at the sealed envelope on his desk, utterly unsure, for the first time in his life, of what outcome to expect, nor even what he wished for.

He loved Sherlock. He was in love with Sherlock….. but could never tell him, because he was his brother for goodness sake!

So……….if they were unrelated…..that meant he could…….but it would also mean that one of them was Jim Moriarty’s half-brother!!

_How the hell could that ever work out??_

If Jim didn’t know which one of them it was then Mycroft would direct his fire to himself and save Sherlock……..

He felt a deep pang of acute distress at the thought that despite now being free to tell Sherlock how he felt, he still couldn’t. He rationalized hat it was quite likely Sherlock had no such feelings for him anyway. So it was best to keep his feelings a secret.

With trembling hands he had opened the envelope. And stared and stared.

They were genetically related---- close enough as was expected from two brothers.

So then who was the spy who had an affair with Prof. Moriarty?!! And why was Jim so obsessed with destroying Sherlock?!

There was only one way to find out. He had to meet Jim.

.

.

When he finally did meet Jim and asked him to leave Sherlock alone, Jim laughed at him and said he was an idiot and had made the wrong deductions.

He was going to hurt Sherlock because M.L. Holmes was Martha Hudson’s pressure point.

Mycroft looked even more confused! He was Mrs Hudson’s pressure point?? That made absolutely no………Oh. Wait….w _hat??!_

_Mummy was Mrs. Hudson’s pressure point?_

And suddenly all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

Jim was Mrs Hudson’s son.

Martha and Mummy had been…together? In college perhaps.

Jim was targeting Sherlock because it would hurt Mummy and therefore Mrs. Hudson because somehow she had Sherlock under her roof.

There was something involved that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Jim was eating an apple and watching him think. He laughed again.

“You are less of an idiot that I thought. Yeah….the woman who gave birth to me left me in an orphanage. My real aunt found me and raised me. My father was incarcerated for life but died of tuberculosis five years later. I never saw him. Martha Hudson abandoned me and had him put in jail. So now I am going to make her suffer!!” He gave a creepy high pitched laugh. “Oh Mr. Holmes! You can’t negotiate with someone who has nothing to lose!! I could have had another life…..with a mother and father and a lovely childhood with no bedtime tales of revenge and retribution……birthday parties instead of funerals and happiness instead of tragedy……… but now I have this life.”

And he bared his teeth menacingly as he tossed the half eaten apple over his shoulder, tilted his head and grinned at Mycroft in a manic way. “And I want a life to be given up for the one I was asked to give up. Sherlock needs to DIE. And in a fun twist, to get him to kill himself, I am going to threaten his pressure points!”

He counted off on his fingers—“The pet, the lackey and the housekeeper.”

He gave Mycroft a pitying look. “For a genius he does have the most BORRRRING attachments. A damaged ex- soldier, a hopeless cop and a baby- abandoning housekeeper. Yeah, Sherlock is going to die!!! Dead dead DEAD!!!”

As soon as the demand was made, Mycroft’s brain switched into high gear. This he understood. This he could manage.

“You do realize.” He said very calmly, as though discussing whether they should eat Hobnobs or Digestive biscuits. “That if Sherlock dies, your life will not last much longer beyond that?”

“Ooooh!“ Jim said mockingly. “I am TERRIFIED…….NOT!!! You are not very good at this are you? Hmmm. Maybe I should have you killed too……but aww…poor Mycroft. His Mummy loves her younger son more! Killing you won’t cause anyone any grief.”

Mycroft looked at him with shuttered eyes.

_Yes…..that was the truth. But it could in fact, work as a bargain._

“It doesn’t matter if anyone cries when I die.” he said. “But you will certainly attract the unwanted attention of MI 6 and other agencies.” He paused and then continued. “So maybe you want to skip killing me for now. And we can work out a way that you don’t die either. “

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will end here because we know from the show what happens later and I didn't want all the chapters to be repetitive! 
> 
> But do check out the next chapter ( which is also the last !) and do drop a line if you enjoy the plot twist!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Everything people did seemed so silly, because they only died in the end.” Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

It was a day like any other.

Martha Hudson woke up early, made tea and was about to go up with a cup for Sherlock when the phone rang.

It startled her with its loudness. And the strangeness of its sound. She couldn’t remember when was the last time that anyone had called on her landline.

“Hello?” She said tentatively

“Mattie? It’s me.” Said a voice from the past. Fifty years older but still the same.

“Meg?” She asked incredulously. “Is it you?”

“Yes it is. Mycroft is probably on his way to collect Sherlock. Timothy passed in the night.”

“Oh Meg, I am so sorry to hear that! Are you ok?” Mattie asked, worried.

“He had been ill with a heart condition for a while Mattie, we knew it was coming. In fact….I should have called you earlier. But………”and she let the sentence hang.

Mattie lived her entire lifetime out in the pause that followed.

But….

That was all her entire life had been about, hadn’t it??

In love with Meg…but

Been pregnant against her will …but

 

_Would they ever get a chance, a lifetime, a universe, in which they could end the sentence the way they wanted it?_

“Mattie? Are you there?” Meg was asking.

“Yes dear. I am here. Just got lost in my thoughts for a minute there!” Mattie said and laughed.

“Mycroft has been telling me about this new research they are involved in and I wanted to talk to you about it.” Meg said.

And so over the next ten minutes Meg explained to her about San Junipero, a simulated reality where the deceased can live and the elderly can visit, all inhabiting their younger selves' bodies.

“I don’t have too many days to live Mattie.” Meg said calmly. “I spent my life with Tim, faithfully…. and as happily as I could have been without you. But now? In the after- life? I want to spend it only with you. If…if you are willing? I am not sure when the end will come, but when it does I will be uploaded into the facility. And I will wait for you.”

Martha Hudson’s head was reeling at this information.

_Was this really possible?!! Could they really have this?? A permanent after-life in each other’s company?_

Mycroft came to visit her the next week and she spoke to him about the project. The plan was agreed upon. Forms were signed and decisions made.

She and Meg spoke on the phone every single day after that but did not meet.

Finally, eleven months later, as the year changed from the old to the new, Meg passed on.

The night after the funeral, when Mycroft and Sherlock returned to London, Martha Hudson said her final fond farewell to them both and took the tablets Dr Watson had procured for her.

As the three men sat in Baker Street, Mycroft with his umbrella in his hand, John Watson with his hand on her absent pulse, and Sherlock with his head in his hands at having lost not one but two mothers within a week, Martha walked down a courtyard in San Junipero, towards the cottage where she could see a beautiful young woman sitting on the steps, waiting for her.

She started walking a little faster as the brown haired woman waved at her eagerly.

She needed to get to her quickly. After all, they had waited for this for so long.

An entire lifetime in fact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The inspiration for this chapter is from the Black Mirror episode San Junipero which describes exactly such a love story between two young women who meet each other , in their young bodies, while actually old women living out their final days in very different places.
> 
> Wanted to make Margaret and Martha live happily ever after at least in the after- life!
> 
> https://www.popsugar.com/entertainment/What-Black-Mirror-San-Junipero-Episode-About-44039278


End file.
